Broken Snowflake
by Kai
Summary: Rules are being broken, a storm's coming, and neither Touma nor Ryo have any idea what's going on. [Complete, and MAJOR html error fixed!]
1. Prologue

Broken Snowflake   
By: Kai   
Disclaimer: This has gotta serve for the whole bit; I don't own the Troopers, and I'm not making any money off this trash.   
Notes: ....... Siiiiigh. This is my longest piece to date, counting anything for school or non-fanfic topics or whatever. It totals a whopping twenty-five pages on my word processor, and comes to five chapters plus the prolouge. God, I am so proud of myself. It also is the longest spanning project of mine; we're talking five drafts and over a years worth of work. Ahhhh. How nice to finally put it up. I'll put a chapter up a week, I think, just to string you guys along. Hahahahahahahahah. 

_______Prolouge______________________

There were rules.

Rules that, although they had never been officially established, had been agreed upon. Rules that weren't meant to be broken.

From the first time, that fateful night they had tumbled into each other's arms, the rules had stood as the proverbial line in the sand, a fence between day and night, friends and lovers. 

Slowly, they became addicted to those nights; in the dark -- one of the rules -- they would come together time after time, bodies arching into a private oblivion, reachable only from that dark, those lonely couplings. 

Like shards of a shattered comet, snow dropped from the sky, silent and heavy. With each subsequent flake hitting the ground, the world fell into a deeper slumber, unmolested by the falling heavens, or gusting wind.

Among the sleeping masses, however, they lay awake, impurities in the quiet, their bodies twisted into a single entity under a sea of rumpled sheets. 

They kept their eyes shut, closed against each other.

There are rules, they both thought.

However deep the rules were built up then, they let their fingers intertwine, the simple gesture threatening to melt the rules as simply as a handful of snowflakes.


	2. Part One

_______Part One______________________

"Snow accumulations outside the city totaled only an average of three inches last night, despite beliefs that the snowfall would reach accumulations of over two feet. However, don't count out that snow yet; another snow-bringing front is moving over Northeastern China, and carrying some of those northern temperatures with it. Today we're looking at overcast skies, and a high of only five degrees Celsius--"

"Gre-eat." Ryo flicked the television off, scowling. "Can't get away from the freakin' snow," he muttered, tossing the remote to the other side of the couch, and slumping down further into the cushions.

Seiji glanced up, not at all surprised by his friend's bad mood. "Didn't get much sleep last night, again?" When Ryo didn't respond, he sighed. "Maybe you should try taking something."

Ryo simply continued scowling at the blank TV screen.

Sunlight reflected off the newly fallen snow, and dappled the floor of the living room, making everything overly bright. The sky was clear, but the promised clouds hung ominously over the horizon. They floated in stark contrast to the blue of the sky.

A storm was looming out there, letting itself slide unnoticed over the sky. 

" 'Morning," Touma mumbled as he came down the stairs, sleepily rubbing his hand over his eyes, his other hand shoved into the front pocket of his jeans. Glancing up, his gaze met Ryo's fleetingly; quickly he tossed his head in the other direction. "Where is everyone?"

Seiji finished going through a stack of notes, and scooped his bag up off the floor. "Shin had an early class, and Shuu took Nasutei and Jun to the airport." He began stuffing his papers into the bag, then picked up his philosophy text book from the table, putting it in with the notes. "Besides, you guys do realize that you both didn't wake up until after ten, right?" He smirked. "I hope this sleeping thing isn't contagious." 

"It just might be. I hope you get it," Ryo said, glaring at Seiji as he crossed to the door. Seiji simply laughed in reply, and pulled his jacket on. 

"See you later." He waved, and exited, pulling the door closed behind him, leaving Ryo and Touma alone together.

Neither man attempted to speak; instead, Touma went into the kitchen, and Ryo turned the TV back on. His scowl disappeared, even as the weather report repeated itself.

Touma, holding a glass of water, reappeared in the doorway. His lips twitched as he fought back a million things, things he knew he couldn't say, but were darting through the air like fireflies. Each word glared at him from his mind, swirling and whispering behind his eyes.

He raised his glass to his lips, finally looking away from the back of Ryo's head. The moment his lips left the rim of the glass, however, one of the burning, buzzing sentences slipped out of his mouth, halting the angry fireflies.

"What time did you finally get to bed last night?"

He could see Ryo tense, the line of his back tightening and straightening. Even as he mentally kicked himself for saying it, the drop of all the excess noise in his head made him nearly gasp with relief.

Some of Ryo's surprise wore off, only to be immediately replaced by a pained mask. He dropped his eyes, the TV forgotten. "I don't know. Probably around four. Four thirty." He paused. "What about you?"

"I guess a little after that. You were already gone when I got up."

"Yeah." The newscaster began going on about the newest toast of the art world, who happened to be twelve. Finally, he turned around, propping his elbows on the back of the couch. "Listen, Touma--"

The door burst open. Shin ran in, snowy feet tracking wet puddles onto Nasutei's carpet. Spotting Ryo and Touma, he rushed toward them, eyes panicked. "All right, I have fifteen minutes until my next class.... Where are my pastry notes?!" 

Blinking blankly at Shin, Ryo shrugged. Touma shook his head. 

Shin darted upstairs, still dripping onto the carpet. 

Touma watched Shin go, then waited until the footsteps receded all the way down the hallway. He swung his gaze back to Ryo, more need in his eyes than he cared to betray. "Yeah?"

Ryo glanced at the ceiling, making sure Shin was completely out of any possible hearing distance. Even then, his voice only emerged as a whisper. "Do you think we could talk?"

Touma felt his already erratic heartbeat flutter nervously in his chest. Opening his mouth to respond, he was cut off as Shin again made his entrance, feet thundering down the stairs. 

Flinging himself at the door, Shin paused, hand on the doorknob. He surveyed the scene in the living room, eyebrows raised. "Everything okay, guys?"

Touma smiled hastily. "Yeah, everything's fine."

Opening the door, Shin frowned, but was distracted when he caught sight of the wall clock that hung on the wall separating the foyer from the room. "I'm gonna be late!" Dashing out the door, and muttering curses to himself, Shin left.

Touma looked back to Ryo, who was still watching Shin back out of the driveway. "You working today?"

Pulling his leaded gaze back to Touma, Ryo shook his head. "I'm on vacation already."

"Right."

Their momentum twice lost, they let the cottony silence seep back into the space between them, filling their mouths. Touma was the first to drop his gaze, turning to put his now empty glass into the sink. Normally, he'd be starving but there was a definite block between his physical and mental states, numbing his skin to everything but the obnoxious memories that always lay just beneath the surface. It was impossible to even find the hunger under it all. 

Whenever he wasn't actually with Ryo, there seemed to be a sketchy imprint of his body against him, a phantom figure whose hands never seemed to brake their shapeless patterns across his aching skin. Although always distracting, especially when he was supposed to be working, but was actually just doodling spirals on paperwork, it was the worst when he first woke up. Those times the distracting bordered agony.

That morning had been the most severe. Before consciousness had even begun to set in, his fingers were searching across the bare sheets. The warmth of another body existed in his mind, but he had, as always, awaken cold and shivering, fingers clutched around his shoulders, embracing nothing.

Ryo watched Touma's unmoving figure in the kitchen, candlelight eyes dimming to rain cloud blue. Snowlight from the generous window in the kitchen was caught along the edges of Touma's body, outlining his hand laying on the counter, and the curve of his shoulder beneath his tee-shirt. Touma's fireflies now showed themselves to Ryo, whining and pleading with him to say what was on his mind, to ask why they were doing what they were doing, to each other, and to themselves.

Plagued with a sudden headache, Ryo rose from the couch, and leaving the TV on, headed upstairs, wanting just to crawl into his own bed and sleep. His own obsession had deepened to the point where dreams seemed a perfectly reasonable replacement for reality. He could stretch in dreams, loosen his rationale and say it, and everything turned out the right way. And every dream was full of light. Not one pocket of shadow existed, to deaden the clarity of everything he felt. 

Running his fingertips along the banister as he ascended, then blankly wandering down the hall, Ryo didn't realize where he was going until the guest room lay before him.

Nasutei insisted they keep this one as a guest room, and given the fact that almost everyone that the house's seven occupants knew lived under the same roof, the boys suspected it was more a tactic to avoid arguing over the room. It was the only one in the house, save Nasutei's own, that had its own bathroom. 

It was the last room in the house, located at the far end of the twisting hallway. It was almost isolated in that respect, and that was claimed to be so that the guests would have ample privacy. The boys also suspected it was really the guest room because Nasutei didn't want to have to regularly drag the vacuum down the hallway.

The throbbing just under his forehead had intensified drastically. Squinting against the pain, he lowered himself onto the bed, burying his face in a pillow. Thoughts woven into Touma's scent tainted the pillow, drudging a million memories to the surface of Ryo's mind. 

Eyes stinging, Ryo fell into an exhausted sleep, his mind sifting through each individual emotion uneasily.


	3. Part Two

_______Part Two______________________

Touma cast another glance at the rapidly darkening sky. The sun had already set, raising a sort of anxiety in him, an excitement that was diluted to the point of dissipation by fear that time would move too quickly. 

Shuu was complaining about the lines at the airport, his bored, exhausted voice a blatant intrusion on Touma's musing. Seiji said something, the calmness in his voice making it almost imperceptible to weary ears. Drumming his fingertips on the tablecloth, Touma looked at the sky again. It was almost dark enough...

"What's the matter with you?" Shuu asked, leaning back in his chair, scrutinizing Touma with a raised eyebrow. 

Snapping back into reality, Touma blinked, then focused again on the other three people at the table. Shin was frowning again, and Seiji was staring at Touma's restless fingers. 

Not receiving any response, Shuu folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. "Between you and Ryo, man..."

"Yeah, what is wrong with Ryo?" Shin asked, getting up and beginning to clear the table. Seiji stood to help him. "He slept all day. Is he feeling okay?"

"And he's been sleeping in everyday," Seiji added, scraping his plate into the garbage. 

Touma shrugged, following Shin and Seiji's lead, dropping his empty plate into the sink. "It's probably the weather," he lied, stepping out of the way, and leaning against the counter. "You know how he is with the cold."

Shin reached around Shuu and grabbed his plate. Shooting Shuu a exasperated stare, Shin handed the plate to Seiji, who had begun to run the water in the sink.

"I don't know," replied Seiji, reaching for the dish soap. "That's usually just makes him more irritable. Now he seems more depressed."

"Yeah, and oversleeping is a sign of depression, you know." Smiling with a little too much pride, Shuu went on, "my professor says that if someone sleeps as much as Ryo's been sleeping--"

"Aren't you failing psychology?"

"I'm getting a C, thank you."

Touma smiled sardonically, crossing his arms over his chest. He sat back and listened to Shin and Shuu bicker for a second until the window pulled his attention again. There was a single star hanging in the sky, from some invisible thread. The delicate light that it threw into the heavens around it broke the last connections to day the sky held. It was _dark_.

He yawned. 

Seiji turned his head to look at Touma. "You don't look so good, either. You should probably get some sleep."

Nodding, Touma left the room, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Who's gonna dry the dishes now?"

"You will."

"Me?! Seiji-man, you know I hate to dry."

"Shin cooked and I'm washing."

Touma smiled again at the voices. 

They began to dissolve as he went upstairs, only the occasional shout or burst of laughter managed to weave its way through the house to meet his ears. Stumbling into the embrace of silence seemed all to familiar, it happened every night. And every night when he got to the room, Ryo would be waiting, standing against the wall, finger poised on the light switch. 

Part of him knew that wasn't how it was going to play out that night, and the rest of him didn't want it to play out that way. Rebelling against the pattern, he hummed to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets.

As he approached the door, he grew a little hesitant. He laid his palm on the door knob, waiting. The moments built up in his head, each passing second making his intent grow dimmer. However, a sleepy murmur from the other side of the door seemed to spark his resolve. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, and leaning against it.

The noise made Ryo stir. He sat up, blinking confusedly, eyes struggling to focus completely. Finally, Touma's presence seemed to register. He cast one look out the window, and rubbed his forehead sleepily. Shakily he stood, gesturing at the empty bed with his hand. 

Touma watched as he crossed to the bathroom, then, as was suggested, lied down on the sheets in the same place Ryo had been sleeping. It was still warm. Sounds of Ryo brushing his teeth reached Touma, and he couldn't help but smirk at the domesticity of it. Reaching, he turned on the lamp beside the bed, the gold from the lamp casting a glow into the silver of the room.

There was only one window in the room, but it was big enough to count for three. The bed was across from it, next to the door to the bathroom. Tilting his head just slightly gave Touma a perfect view outside. 

The looming clouds had only begun to crawl across the sky, pulling themselves along and dragging bleakness behind them. The air, even in the closed space of the room, smelt like the promised storm. Inhaling deeply, Touma closed his eyes. 

Ryo stepped back in from the bathroom, flicking off the bathroom light as an afterthought. He sat on the bed next to Touma, stroking the other's hair with the back of his hand. 

Twisting into the touch, Touma's head came to rest on Ryo's leg, face turned up to Ryo, but eyes still closed. The realization that the light was still on hit Ryo quickly. He couldn't remember actually seeing Touma's face any evening before this. Between them, things shattered, the dust of so many truths littered the once empty space. 

Ryo leaned over, brushing his lips across Touma's then sitting up again. There was a nervous stabbing in his chest; actually seeing him made the whole thing too much like a normal day, and he didn't know where the new lines were being drawn. 

Without opening his eyes, Touma reached up, hands folding over the back of Ryo's neck and pulling him down again. Ryo smiled to himself as his lips hovered an inch above Touma's. 

As they kissed, the first snowflake fell to the already crystalline planet. Of course, neither of them noticed. 


	4. Part Three

_______Part Three______________________

"Well, everybody, it seems like that ever promised blizzard has finally decided to show itself. The Tokyo area is under a Severe Winter Weather Watch, and it is advised that everyone stays off the road until the actual severity of the storm has been determined. Drops in temperature around Honshu suggest that the front will be bringing in harsher weather than expected and raising levels of humidity around the west coast indicate ample snow, to say the least. Back to you--"

"Why are you still watching that?" Shuu asked, grabbing the remote out of Ryo's hand, only to begin flipping through the channels. To his great dismay, most of them showcased only news. 

"It's seven in the morning," Ryo scowled. "Nothing else is on."

Shuu looked at him, eyes as pensive as they could be without really requiring too much thinking. "Yeah. That reminds me. Why are you up, anyway?"

Blushing, Ryo took advantage of Shuu's preoccupation and snatched the remote back, restoring the television to it's previous network.

"What do you mean, why am I up?"

"You've been sleeping in everyday. Seven seems just a bit... Odd."

Ryo rolled his eyes at his friend, turning his attention back to the news. "I slept all day yesterday. I didn't want to stay in bed anymore."

"Oh." Although his tone suggested finality, Shuu continued to glance at Ryo out of the corner of his eye, seemingly wanting to add a comment. 

Noticing this, Ryo exhaled with a great deal of annoyance. The general feeling of immense fatigue was beginning to wane, but the expected winter irritability was still lurking under it all. "What?"

"You haven't been sleeping in your room, have you?" 

Jaw trying its best not to fall on the floor, Ryo twisted to face Shuu. "Why would you think that? I was there last night."

"Uh, no, you weren't actually." Answering Ryo's pointed stare, he continued, "Shin went to check on you around... I don't know, ten or so. He said weren't there." The color drained from Ryo's face. Pleased with his victory, Shuu puffed up his chest a little, settling more exaggeratedly on the couch. "I figured something was going on, and I figured Touma would be the best one to ask, so--" 

Ryo shuddered. "Touma..." He whispered, eyes blankly staring at the floor a few feet away. 

"So, I went to his room, and he wasn't there either."

Cautiously, Ryo let his gaze come back to Shuu. "What's your point?" He replied, trying his best to keep any kind of acknowledgment from his eyes.

Shuu shrugged, turning back to the TV. "I'm not sure, actually. But, Ryo," he paused, looking at Ryo again. "Whatever's going on, you've gotta get it figured out." 

Ryo didn't say anything in reply. Eyes on the TV, it was easy enough to block Shuu's existence from the active portions of his brain. 

It wasn't like he hadn't tried to figure it out, because he had. He had lay awake in the guest room more times than he could count, mind furiously gathering every encounter together, and forcing them into a thousand experimental justifications. Nothing seemed to ever fit, and as he realized this, he would turn into Touma, who had likewise reached the same conclusion. 

In the end, when he got up in before the dawn and made the trip back down the hallway, he never reached any new conclusions, and the entire tryst remained shrouded in mystery.

Ryo turned back to Shuu, eyes narrow and dark. "You didn't say anything to anyone, right?"

"Not yet, but--"

"Don't." He added as an after thought, "Please."

Shuu looked a little confused, but nodded. 

Someone came thunking down the stairs, letting out a loud sigh. Shin appeared in the doorway, eyes drooping and exhausted. "You coming?" He asked Shuu, reshouldering bag, and blinking slowly. "You're driving."

Shuu got up and gave Ryo a last look before disappearing into the foyer. 

"I've got an exam," clarified Shin, leaning his head against the door frame, "and I wanted to use the school's kitchens. I don't know when we'll be back, but I'll call if it looks like we'll be late."

"Are you sure? That storm's supposed to start later--"

"I know. But I gotta get this done." He stopped, and added, "if it looks bad, we'll stay in the city. No problem," in answer to Ryo's worried face. He put on a weak smile. "Don't worry so much."

Ryo's eyebrows drew together, but he didn't say anything else. There was a certain sense of foreboding in the air; he couldn't shake the feeling that Shin and Shuu shouldn't walk out that door. 

"See ya, Ryo," Shuu called. The door slammed, and in the driveway, the car started up and tires screeched their way down the driveway. 

And then, it was quiet. 

Too quiet, Ryo thought, despite the voices from the TV. If anything, the newscasters halting speech seemed to emphasize the silence in the house. He frowned to himself, then got up and went into the kitchen to make some coffee.

-------

Touma rolled onto his side, flexing his fingers restlessly. Deftly, he wondered what time it was; Seiji had gotten up an hour or so ago, so it was probably around seven thirty. He hadn't gone back to sleep after he'd changed rooms, despite his best efforts. Last night had been different; watching Ryo's face as they'd held each other had shattered every last illusion that those nights were dreams. 

And he knew he could never meet Ryo's eyes without thinking about _it_ again. Worse yet, he didn't want to. And he wanted to see the same recognition in Ryo's eyes, not the flat denial he was accustomed to. 

But he knew he couldn't. 

He reviewed the remaining rules in his mind, turning each over with more patience than he'd been able to muster in weeks. There were so few left, he thought, and he had no idea what would happen when they shattered those as well. That was inevitable really. 

There were ways to get out of the whole arrangement, but so many of them involved hurting Ryo, which he knew he couldn't do. The only two other options he could think of were talking to Ryo about it -- flush it into the open -- and running. 

Running, of course, would hurt Ryo, but Touma would be too far away to feel any of that. Talking would be more of a gamble; it could kill them both, or it might resolve things cleanly, or it might even--

Touma groaned and buried his face in his pillow. When had it become this necessary to do anything at all? Was that one tiny decision, turning on the light, really turning into an issue with this much severity?

In any case, he knew he couldn't talk to Ryo about it, as he was so uncertain about what it was in the first place. As far as he was concerned, Ryo had no better idea than he did. Besides, there was that obvious gambling problem; he didn't know what would come of such a conversation, and he didn't think the odds were too good for what he really wanted.

And, he reluctantly admitted, the one resolution he really wanted was to be with Ryo. 

As slow as the thought was, Touma was still surprised by it. He was less surprised, however, by the thought hanging on the first's heels: that was never going to happen, he might as well stop thinking about it. 

He complied, tucking it between childhood dreams and hypothetical questions. 

That left running. He wasn't sure where he could run to, but there had to be somewhere. He had been thinking about moving out of Nasutei's house for a while now, and the present time seemed the best to start planning seriously. Realistically, staying here for so long was a bit ill-conceived; he went to school in the city, and commuting daily was getting to be a little much. Moving out would appear natural enough, no one would begin to suspect why he was really leaving, and they wouldn't object as he would be close enough to visit. 

So, that was it. He was going to move. He wouldn't need to see Ryo, he wouldn't be tempted to retreat into their carefully crafted, incredibly selfish, and eternally maddening reverie. He wouldn't have to worry about falling--

He caught himself this time, before the damning words formed in his mind. But, when it all came down to it, that was it, wasn't it? That was the problem.

"Hey, Touma, you awake?" 

Touma rolled over, propping himself up on an elbow. "Yeah." 

Seiji stood by the door, his bag slung over his shoulder. He scowled pensively at the archer, moving to lean against the door frame. "How long have you been up?"

"For a few hours, I guess." 

"And here I was, sneaking around so I wouldn't wake you."

"Thanks," replied Touma, smirking.

"No problem." Seiji grinned, despite the dryness in his voice. "Anyway, can I take your car to school today? Nasutei's still doesn't have the snow tires on it and that storm--"

"Yeah, sure," Touma said, dismissing the blonde's explanations with the wave of a hand. 

"Thanks." Seiji opened the door, and was about to leave when Touma's voice stopped him.

"What would you have done if I was asleep?"

Throwing glance over his shoulder, Seiji shrugged, then exited the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

Finally accepting that he wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon, Touma threw the covers off, and swung his legs off the bed. The cold air hit his legs, eliciting a sharp hiss from Touma.

He shivered, crossing the room to his dresser and pulling on some jeans. That was a little better, but the cold still lingered beneath his skin, icing him from the inside. Which was odd, considering, typically, the cold didn't bother him. Not that he particularly enjoyed being cold, but it was never something that he was sensitive too. 

Throwing on a sweater for good measure, he went downstairs, hoping someone brought in the paper so he wouldn't have to go out to get it. 

Sure enough, it lay on the floor in the foyer, stamped with half melted snow and ground through with salt and dirt. He picked it up and slid it from the plastic bag, frowning to find the paper a bit soggy. Discarding the sections he didn't need, Touma headed for the kitchen, nose buried in the Classifieds.

Ryo looked up from the coffee pot, following with his eyes as he came in and sat down, completely oblivious to Ryo's presence. Just watching him brought a tinge of color to Ryo's cheeks. He turned away, feigning pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

"What're you doing?" He asked, back still turned to Touma.

Startled, Touma jumped. He dropped the paper onto the table, head snapping around to face Ryo's back. He sighed, and turned so he could prop his chin up on his hand. "I didn't see you."

"Sorry." Walking around to the other side of the table, but keeping his eyes on the inside of his mug, Ryo asked again; "what're you doing?"

Touma swallowed. This was going to be harder than he had originally thought. "Looking for an apartment." He didn't realize how heavy the words were until they had completely fallen from his lips, and by then, it was impossible to pull them back. He stole a quick look at Ryo, then his eyes darted back to the paper, back to the endless black text that could save him, even as it broke him.

Ryo's eyebrows slammed up into his forehead. He coughed, tried to choke down any stray noises of surprise. "Why?" He managed to keep his voice level, even as his mind spun. He didn't want him to go, he couldn't go, where would that leave Ryo? Ryo took another swig of coffee, the bitterness lost on his preoccupied senses. 

Squinting hard at one of the ads, Touma fought off the urge to look back up at Ryo. That would end it; one look, and he'd be lost. "Yeah. I was thinking it was time for me to get my own place, you know, closer to campus." He absently tapped the ad he had been studying. "This one doesn't seem too bad," he said, even though the details escaped him. 

Ryo shut his eyes hard, squeezing the lids together until the muscles ached. "I guess that makes sense," he said, quietly, opening his eyes again and fixing them on Touma. "Good luck finding a good one, by the way. Some of those ads can be tricky." His chest began to ache as he pushed nonchalance into his words. "If you need someone to go down with you to check the places out, feel free to ask." He drained the rest of his coffee, and moved to stand, surprised to find his legs as weak as they were. 

The house went silent again, even though the TV people were still going on, and Ryo's bare feet made tiny padding noises as he crossed the tile floor. Ryo shivered. The floor was cold beneath his feet, although this was the first time he could feel it, it seemed. There was Tylenol in one of the cabinets, he just wasn't sure which one. He began blindly checking each one, even the ones that he knew contained dishes or cups. 

"What are you looking for?" Asked Touma, without looking up. 

"Tylenol."

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's just a headache, don't worry." Ryo paused in his rummaging, and pressed a hand to his temples. "Eh, forget it. It's probably just the weather." Dropping his hand, he left his mug in the sink, and left the room.

It was easier to breathe away from Touma, Ryo realized as he climbed the stairs. He paused and leaned heavily on the railing, trying to regain the strength in his legs, trying to stop the shaking of his fingers.

He was leaving. 

Ryo understood the motives for leaving -- Touma did have to get up pretty early, and he spent a lot of time driving back and forth, and he was getting too old to rely on Nasutei anymore. Touma had brought it up before, too, so it shouldn't have come as such a slap. But it did.

The silence was back, eating away at his control. The weather report was on again, and subconsciously, his ears perked up to listen. 

"All of Tokyo and surrounding areas are on a Severe Winter Weather Watch; stay tuned for more details."

Ryo sighed, then continued up the stairs, once again ending up in the guest bedroom.

-------

Listening to the footsteps above him, Touma buried his face in his hands. He had already narrowed his search down to two apartments, but then he'd realized the finality of what he was doing and he had to stop for a minute. 

The first choice was a one room, 17.5 square-meters deal, that promised a bathroom. He wasn't sure where they had fit the bathroom, but they claimed it was there. It would probably be enough for him, and he could manage the rent -- it was only 70000 yen a month, with utilities -- so it seemed like a pretty probable option.

The second choice was a more of a wild card. He wasn't sure why he had picked it out; it was slightly out of his range, and it was more than he needed, but there was something that made him keep it on his list. It was bigger than the other -- an amazing 40 square-meters, with one separate bedroom. The price wasn't listed, but even the other place's price would have been a slight stretch, with school to pay for and everything, and this one was probably a lot more. 

He lifted his head and stared at the ad. 

He picked up the paper, and folded it in half so the two selected blurbs were on top. Going back upstairs to his room, he dropped it on the bed. He could probably get out there tomorrow to check it out, provided Seiji got the car back in one piece. Touma wasn't sure he trusted the blonde's driving all the time. 

Glancing across the hallway, Touma noticed that Ryo's door was open and that the room was empty. He frowned, knowing where Ryo probably was.

And, against all better judgment, Touma began walking down there, feet landing heavily on the floor. Part of his mind registered that the TV downstairs was still on, and that it was really loud, and he should've probably gone down to turn it off.

Of course, he didn't. 

Ryo was there, as he'd known he would be. He was standing by the window, leaning his forehead against it. Tilting his face toward Touma, he smiled, if not a bit sardonically.

Leaning against the door, Touma prepared himself for the shock waves; another rule was about to slip between his fingers and hit the pavement. 

"Any luck?" It was only a whisper, but it sent ripples through the previously undisturbed purity of the room. 

"Yeah." Touma took a few more steps toward Ryo, but stopped when Ryo looked out the window again.

"I don't think it's going to snow tonight, even though everyone said it was going to. I really don't think it's going to snow for a while yet. Maybe in a few days, but not before that. The air really doesn't smell like snow yet, it just--"

"Ryo," Touma interrupted, reaching out to touch the back of Ryo's hand, which was pressed palm first against the cool glass of the window pane. 

Separating himself from the window, Ryo faced Touma, eyes aching, fingers trembling, chest throbbing. "It's okay, you know. Your leaving."

Touma flinched as the words struck him. "Good. Well, I--"

He was cut off by Ryo grabbing his hand and pulling him against his chest. Touma relaxed against him, still holding Ryo's hand. He was surprised at how much better that felt.

Twining his fingers in the soft hairs at the nape of Touma's neck, Ryo drew in a shaky breath. He was trembling even more now, almost uncontrollably, despite his best efforts to hide it.

"You okay?" Touma drew back to meet Ryo's eyes, surprised to find them shut. With his free hand, he ran the back of his hand along the curve of the other's cheek, and was rewarded when Ryo's eyelids fluttered open again. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine." 

They kissed, lightly enough to be called tentative. Ryo shivered, and in response, Touma pulled him closer. He wasn't cold from the outside, though, and there was nothing Touma could do to keep him warm.

Nothing short of finally telling him the truth. 


	5. Part Four

_______Part Four______________________

The storm finally broke that night.

They weren't sure when it had happened, but sometime after they had fallen onto the bed together, the skies had opened, and a whirling blizzard had been unleashed on the world.

They didn't stay in the bedroom after; Ryo went to the other bathroom to take a shower, while Touma went back to his room to pour over the two apartment choices. He stretched out on his bed on his stomach and just stared at them for no longer than half an hour before he decided that he had to get out of the house that minute. 

Of course, the logical part of his brain was reminding him of the snow, and the probable traffic, and the fact that he had nowhere to go, but that part was easily squelched. 

Until it perked up to remind him that Seiji had his car. The car with the snow tires. 

_Shit._

Well, he wasn't going to be sneaking off. But he still needed to get out of there. He was just going to have to borrow Ryo's car. Chewing on his bottom lip, he wondered how that was going to go over. 

Ryo wasn't going to let him take his car, naturally, out in the storm for no reason. Maybe he could tell him he wanted to go look at the apartments... Touma almost laughed at himself. 

Well... Maybe it would work. Maybe he could just say he called the one person about the one apartment, and they said that if he was interested, he better come down and check it out tonight, because they might be closing with someone else, but they weren't above hearing another bid. That would work, actually, Touma thought, circling the ad with his index finger. And Ryo wouldn't go with him because it was snowing, and the last thing Ryo ever wanted to do was go out in the snow. 

Then again, Ryo would probably prefer going out in a little snow than to letting his best friend go out in it alone. 

Cursing Ryo's loyalty, Touma got up, snatching up the paper. He threw his narrow gaze against the back of his door, then at the window. He promptly began cursing the storm instead. And then Seiji for borrowing his car, and then himself for letting him take it. 

Someone somewhere was probably getting the biggest kick out of this. 

After mulling it over and scowling at the falling snow for a few more minutes, Touma decided just to ask Ryo if he could borrow his car. And if Ryo insisted upon accompanying him into the city, Touma would simply say that he didn't need to go after all, and hide in his room for the rest of the night. Briefly, he considered just skipping to the hiding in his room part, but decided against it. He might as well try to get out of the house, even though the odds were so evilly stacked up against him.

He went into the hallway, and knocked, rather curtly, on Ryo's bedroom door. 

"Yeah?" 

Touma stared at the door, but didn't open it. He didn't really want to face Ryo, in fact, he really didn't want to be talking to him. There were too many blurred spots in their relationships, too many holes where friendship fell into sex, and Touma really didn't want to fall into one. 

"Hey, Ryo? Would it be okay if I borrowed your car for the rest of the night?"

p>There was a silence that allowed Touma to reconsider his plan fourteen and a half times and mentally smack himself twice as many. Ryo jerked the door open, abruptly ending Touma's too-late musings, and stared at him, incredulously. 

"What?"

"Can I borrow your car for the rest of the night? I just called this guy about an apartment and he said--"

"You want to go out in the middle of the biggest blizzard we've had in long time to look at an apartment?" Ryo shook his head. "And you want to take my car?"

Scratching around in his mind, Touma found his pre planned story. "I have to go check this place out tonight, because they're about to close with someone else--"

Ryo cut him off again. "Then let them! There'll be other apartments, Touma."

There was suddenly a huge, wet sadness hanging in the air, Touma realized. And it was choking him. More than silence ever had. The sadness, shot through with lies and excuses, soaked through his skin and completely plugged his nose and mouth and eyes until he was drowning in it. Battling the snow had to be better than this. 

"You're right, sorry. Don't know what I was thinking," he managed, forming the words slowly. Grinning, he turned to go, but stopped as Ryo lay a hand on his arm.

"Wait. It's not snowing that hard yet, I guess, and if this place means that much to you, you can take my car." He dropped his hand. "You know where the keys are." As an afterthought, he added; "And stay in the city until the storm clears, okay? Don't try and come back home."

Somewhere in his mind, Touma realized that that sadness was coming from Ryo. Straight from his eyes, which were the strangest shade of blue Touma had ever seen them. With a pang of guilt, he realized how selfish and dumb this whole thing was. 

"Nah, just forget it." The kicking part of his brain started up again, but the rest of him sighed in relief. 

"Are you sure? It's really okay if you want to use my car." The sadness was gone, and replaced by earnestness, fringed with the sort of selflessness that had gotten Ryo into so many problems. "I'll be fine here."

There was something he hadn't considered! He would have left Ryo alone out here. With no way of getting anywhere if there had been an emergency. And who knew how long it might take them to clear the roads after the storm... Touma's mind balked at the thought of Ryo left alone in this huge house.

"Yeah, it's fine." He turned again to go, hating himself.

Ryo stayed in the doorway, watching Touma descend the stairs. He felt bad. "Touma." Ryo flicked off the lights in his room, and walked down to where Touma was standing, watching him. "Let's go. I'll go with you, so if there's a problem, you won't be by yourself." He paused, then, sensing Touma was about to object, continued. "You want to check this place out, right? Besides, we're out of laundry detergent."

He hopped down the stairs, flicking his keys off the table and swinging them around his finger. He went to lock the back door, and turn off the TV, finally, and all the while, Touma stood on the stairs, staring at him. 

It was amazing how many things could backfire in the span of a day. 

Part of him was all up to putting up a fight, but the rest of him knew -- especially as he watched Ryo pulling on his jacket -- that it really wasn't worth it. There was no apartment to look at, but he couldn't tell Ryo that now, because that would require explaining that he didn't want to stay in that house anymore, and that would lead to why...

Because it was a constant reminder of everything he wanted, wanted more than he's ever wanted anything, and the fact that he was too afraid of changing his life around to get it. That was it, really, that was what it came down to; he wanted to be with Ryo, but he didn't want to give up that friendship, either. He was in love with Ryo, but he didn't want to have to ever say it.

He drew in a sharp, hissing breath as they swept over him, the thoughts that had been tied up behind that singular admission. 

"Touma? You coming?"

He lowered his eyes to Ryo, who was standing by the door, keys in hand, coat and gloves on. There he was, oblivious to the fact that Touma's mind was screaming "I love you" at him and Touma was cringing because of it. Touma shook his head, trying to clear it, and went down the rest of the stairs. 

"Yeah, sure."


	6. Part Five

_______Part Five_____________________

"Are you sure this is the place?" 

"Yeah." Touma looked up at the building, squinting against the fierce snow, and not at all surprised to find it dark. "I guess it took us longer getting here than we'd thought."

Ryo nodded, then turned, looking up and down the street. What would normally be a fifteen minute drive had taken them nearly forty-five minutes, as the visibility worsened and the roads grew more treacherous. They had been the only car on the road much of the way out here; even now, Tokyo was eerily silent under the falling snow. 

Turning back around, Ryo found Touma staring at him. The archer didn't even bother to divert his gaze when Ryo met his eyes; there was something about the quiet that was impairing his normal logic. 

The stood in the frozen glare of the street light with the snow streaming heavily around them for a handful of chilly moments. Something was building, in those few minutes, more rapidly than it had cared to throughout their entire tryst, and both men were feeling it.

It was Ryo who first shattered that black, glassy silence. "So, you really have to move this bad?"

Touma shrugged. He didn't want to have to say it, he didn't want to have to say it, he didn't--

"When are you planning on going? As soon as you get the first place you can afford?" 

That was definitely anger. Touma shrugged again. "I guess so."

"So, you're running away."

Snapping his head to the side, he winced. 

A look of deep awareness suddenly settled onto Ryo's face. It was that simple, simple enough that he'd stumbled onto it by accident. "That's exactly what you're doing, isn't it? You're running away." And then, much to both of their surprise, he laughed. A bitter laugh, but an honest one. It echoed weirdly around the barren streets, then was broken as a car rolled by, right through the laughing's course. 

The quiet settled in again, this time much more heavily. 

"I never tried to run away from it," Ryo whispered, his voice the same as the silence, flowing through it like water, but not breaking it. In fact, it didn't even disturb the surface. "I'm in the same position you are, and I have no more of an idea of what's going on, but I never tried to run away."

"I was always smarter than you," Touma said, surprised by the dryness of his voice. It, too, didn't muss the stillness, just shifted under it. "And maybe we're not in the same position, maybe things are different. What makes you think that we're thinking the same things?"

"Because I thought I knew you well enough to know that we were both confused." He paused, rubbing his hands together. "I guess not."

"Did you ever think that maybe I was in love with you?" 

Touma's voice reached a new kind of silence--it seemed just broken. Broken, as the broken snowflakes dropped around them from the broken sky that sagged above their broken minds. 

Ryo didn't say anything for long enough that Touma began to think maybe he hadn't heard him. He just stood their, rubbing his hands together and staring at them. Finally, he shoved them in his pockets, and looked up at the sky.

"Actually, no, that never occurred to me." 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Touma turned away, going to lean on the back of the car. He hadn't wanted to say it, but the words had tumbled out of his mouth before he knew they were coming. And now he was aching worse than he'd feared he would.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but he didn't think that was it. It wasn't what he'd had hoped would happen... The snow was picking up, becoming smaller and faster. Snowflakes stung against his face, but he didn't really notice, even as he bowed his head.

There was a good deal of purple in the sky, Ryo realized, as he continued to stare at it. That was the only legible thought in his mind; every other was remembering. It had just happened, so the memory was fresh, but it had been so fleeting and small that Ryo knew it was about to fly from his grasp. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

Finally, he felt secure enough in his memory to speak. "Are you?" It seemed like the snow absorbed the question. He looked back at Touma, who was still looking down. Shoes crunching on the fresh snow, he moved to stand in front of Touma. He meant to repeat himself, but the words came out as, "You are."

Touma didn't look up. The hair on the top of his head was run through with a glitter. Reaching up, Ryo brushed it off, then dropped his hand to Touma's cheek. He wasn't sure, but he thought that just, maybe--

He lifted Touma's face, meeting his overbright eyes. "You don't have to move out," he whispered, hand still on his face. 

Touma smiled bitterly, shaking Ryo's hand from his face. "Yeah, I do." 

Not knowing what to say, Ryo sighed. He went to stand next to Touma and leaned against the car, still shivering. Touma noticed, and looked over at Ryo. "We should probably find a hotel or something." 

"Yeah." Ryo glanced up the street, squinting at the road sign, obscured as it was by the snow. "I think there's a place a block or two from here."

"What are you, now, a hotel connoisseur?"

Smirking at Touma, Ryo reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "How much money do you have?"

Touma followed suit, tilting his wallet, so when he opened it, snow couldn't fall in. "Enough, I guess." He looked back at the car; snow had already piled up around the tires and on the windshield. "Looks like we're gonna have to walk."

Involuntarily, Ryo shuddered. He gave the car a loose inspection himself, knowing Touma was right. "So, we should probably get going." He slid his hands back in his pockets.

They walked to the hotel in silence, Ryo a few steps ahead of Touma. 

There seemed to be a bit of a breeze now, but not much of one. It was just a stirring in the air, just around their knees, that swirled the snow into tiny cartwheels and that knocked cooler currents against their calves. 

Thoughts were noisy affairs in the dark. Counterintuitive messes that rang through a tranquil scene, twisting into every dip of matter they could find. Touma scowled. If there was one thing he couldn't ever seem to help, it was thinking, and recently, it was thinking about Ryo. Those thoughts ranged the farthest from his mind; they flew like salient specters and ran chapped hands over Ryo's back. He licked his lips with a grimace. 

Ryo fought the urge to look over his shoulder. He could hear Touma's footsteps in the snow, but there was still a part of his mind that was convinced Touma had remained leaning against the car a few hundred meters back. Every other second he assured himself that Touma was behind him, and just _remember_. There was something satisfying in remembering it, hearing it without having to ask Touma to repeat it. He smiled. 

He was strangely warm, despite the blizzard knocking against him and the thin fabric of his jeans. That was what he had been waiting for, and it had taken hearing it to make him realize that. He had never been _loved_ before, not like what he thought this was. He shook the melted snow from his hair.

He remembered, as the snowflakes flew from his hair, that Touma was still leaving. He would still have to say good-bye. He stopped walking abruptly, and opened his mouth to say something, when suddenly Touma bumped into him from behind.

Soles without traction on the ice that was the sidewalk, they went sprawling, legs and arms scrambling for some kind of hold in the slide. Ryo landed first, hitting his chin hard on the ground, biting his lip. Touma fell on top of him; his temple slamming painfully into the back of Ryo's head. Stunned, he lay on Ryo, blinking dark spots from his eyesight. 

"Ow," Ryo muttered, licking the blood on his lip. Shifting, Touma began mumbling under his breath and rubbing his head. 

Struggling to a sitting position in the snow, Touma winced. "Why'd you stop?" 

Ryo could feel his lip already swelling. "Why weren't you watching where you were going?"

"I was thinking." Touma closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, face a grimace of pain as he pressed his hand to his head. 

"Me, too." Ignoring the fact that his jeans were soaked through, Ryo sat up, watching Touma carefully. "Touma..."

He looked up, hand still against the side of his head. His brows drew together in confusion and he frowned. "What?" When Ryo still hesitated, he blushed, feeling his cheeks blaze against the frigid air. "Listen, I didn't mean... I mean, no, I just..." He paused, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "I'm sorry." He looked down and dropped his hand into the snow. "I didn't mean to make things so awkward, so just forget it. I never said anything, okay?" He met Ryo's eyes fleetingly, then continued. "I'll be out of the house by next week, I hope, so it shouldn't be too bad, don't worry about it, I--"

His voice trailed off as Ryo shifted to sit very close, right in front of him. Ryo raised a hand, brushing Touma's injured temple lightly. "You okay? You're not acting like yourself."

"I'm fine, fine," Touma whispered. He didn't resist Ryo's touch this time. "But, really Ryo, I--"

"I don't want you to leave," Ryo said, cutting him off. The wind threw his hair into his eyes, but he didn't move to brush it away. "I want you to stay with me." He wouldn't have been able to look Touma in the face, if it weren't for the fact that Touma was staring at his hand that was presently clenched in the snow. "Please." 

Touma's eyebrows raised a little, unconsciously. There was a plea in the last word that he hadn't expected, a need that he wasn't aware existed. Ryo's hand was feathering down the side of his face, coming to rest on his jaw, and the pain in his head was slowly dissolving away into merely an all-too-recent memory. He didn't say anything because what could he say?

And then Ryo was kissing him, and he didn't need to say anything, he couldn't say anything, and he was falling back into Ryo, despite the snow and the cold and the ice. Ryo's lip was still swollen and a little bloody, but neither of them seemed to notice until they pulled apart; Ryo smirked a little, licking his lip slowly.

Minutes ticked away, and they were still crouched together on the ground, completely oblivious to the blizzard. The silence was fading, the sound was coming back. The wind was sighing again, and there was a distant blare of a car horn and a crunch of tires on snow. Finally, Touma got to his feet, and extended a hand to help Ryo up. He glanced down the street, then turned to Ryo. "So, where's this place?"

"Are you going to stay?"

Touma looked at Ryo quickly, then down, thinking. Part of him was aching to stay, because Ryo was asking and everything would be okay, but the rest of him said no. And the trench between parts was so deep that he didn't even know how to breech it, and now that he was so close to leaving he couldn't turn back around and stay. He felt incredibly sad all of a sudden, because things could be so perfect but they weren't going to be just because he had hurt for too long in that house and he was too stubborn to move on. 

"I can't." 

Ryo met Touma's eyes. "Why not?"

"I just can't. I need to get out of there, and I really do need to be closer to school, gas is too expensive. And I'm too old to be --" He stopped, remembering the second apartment. He looked at Ryo with wide eyes, suddenly aware that _that_ was what he was hoping for, _that_ was why he kept the second apartment as an option. Of course, Ryo still hadn't said it, yet, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to take the risk... 

"What?" 

He stared hard at Ryo, his mind screaming at him to say it, or drop some kind of hint that what Touma wanted to be true really was and that he hadn't ruined _everything_ with that one, stupid question that he hadn't meant to ask. But Ryo was just confused and quiet. 

"Do you..." He had no idea of how to bring this one up. He stopped, looking at Ryo again to get it, and say it unprompted. He was still quiet. A little more confused. He sighed. "What about you?"

"What'd you mean?" More confused. 

"Well, you know how I feel, sort of, and well, what about you?" He flinched as he finished the question, the words puncturing his pride all the way down to his center. Silence flooded back for a moment, but then, Ryo answered the question. 

"I love you." Ryo was only a little shocked at the sound of the words; and the last of the freeze inside him thawed and the melted part run through his blood. He ventured a tiny half smile, uncomfortable and confident and complete and empty all at once. But then Touma smiled back at him and he felt his insides fill again with the throbbing warmth of the freeze, and he knew that he had known it all along.

And that was the end of whatever had been before, and there was, in that instant, a revolution, and everything was left new. Touma wasn't sure what it meant, but he was so much lighter and now he could move on, there was nothing left to tie him to the house that had tortured him for so long. He just needed one thing, but that was no longer a problem, because he had it, and life was so bright, despite the storm and the clouds. It would end by morning.

"So, come with me. I have the place picked out, I think. I might be a bit much, but I think that we could manage it if we split it--" 

But he didn't need to talk anymore, because Ryo had kissed him again, and that was all that mattered then. He smiled against the other man's lips and reached up, running his fingers up Ryo's neck.

The snow kept falling, tossing a layer of fresh over the globe, but that didn't matter at all. 

_End_

_[For the record, this fic was completed at 22:39, on December first, 2002, more than a year after it was started. You have no idea how happy that makes me.]_


End file.
